One of the faculty members here in The Netherlands (Richard Gill) told me about this social scientist (Diederik Stapel) who long fabricated data purporting to provide evidence for things like: thinking of eating meat causes anti-social behavior. He was only very recently fired. My cynical question is: isn’t there enough latitude in any data purporting to provide evidence for such claims to avoid the need for outright fabrication? Continue reading
Monthly Archives: October 2011
Thinking of Eating Meat Causes Antisocial Behavior?
OPERA ERROR? or …
Driven in this rather far-out pink Hummer car rental (not my idea, but cute–takes deisel too), I quickly got to the Zurich airport. Next stop: a workshop on error in the sciences ( Lorentz Center in the Netherlands). Now last week I’d read that there was a fairly blatant error in the statistical analysis (or in the prediction) involved in the experiments on faster-than-the speed-of-light-particles by the OPERA group (Oscillation Project with Emulsion-tRacking Apparatus), but now it appears there is back-tracking on the back-tracking. What do readers think? Can anyone update me on this? (Hunches ok too.)
Playing to the Probability Poem
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| ISAAC CHATFIELD, COMPOSER, JAZZ GUITARIST (son) |
Probability Poetry
I am reminded it is Friday, having just gotten a Skype call from friends back at Elbar; so here’s another little contest. Each of the following statisticians provided useful help on drafts of papers I was writing in response to (Bayesian) critics. One of them, to my surprise, attached the following poem to his remarks:
A toast is due to one who slays
Misguided followers of Bayes,
And in their heart strikes fear and terror,
With probabilities of error!
Without looking this up, guess the author:
1) I.J. Good
2) George Barnard
3) Erich Lehmann
4) Oscar Kempthorne
The first correct guess will receive an amusing picture from “the whaler” sent from Elbar.
(Note: The author wanted me to note that this poem was to be taken in a jocular vein. )
ELBA GREASE
In exile from exile, I sort of miss one of the places my Island friends would insist I accompany them to on Friday nights: a watering hole called the “Elbar Room” which serves up a wonderful sour drink called “Elbar Grease” (I am serious)—it is like drinking straight lemon which for some reason I‘ve always liked (GW says I may be missing a gene). Anyway it’s some kind of sparkling wine with extremely sour lemon liquor and nectarines. The shiny military brass barstools alone make the place interesting. Sadly, I don’t know when I can return just yet. Continue reading
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Workshop
Rejected Posts of D. Mayo 